


Ways of Seeing

by teethteethteeth



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Terrible People Being Terrible, Victor Zsasz's Tally Marks, ZsaszMask, fictional murder is sexy leave me alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:53:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29837703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teethteethteeth/pseuds/teethteethteeth
Summary: As Victor Zsasz cleans up after a job, Roman Sionis asks where his own tally mark will be.
Relationships: Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	Ways of Seeing

As much as he might not have liked mess, Roman always enjoyed watching Victor clean up after a job. There was something about the care that he did it with. He didn’t just wipe down his knives. He went over them, over and over, digging into each grove with frowning care and a soft cloth, until Roman could have used them as hand mirrors. Roman sometimes thought of keeping one for that express purpose, but he’d always end up deciding it was entirely too small. 

Now, as ever, Victor’s clothes were a different story. Victor Zsasz didn’t mind blood. Roman smirked at the thought. An understatement if there ever fucking was one. After any job where he could take his time, any where he didn’t have to be quick and quiet, he’d end up fucking drenched in the stuff. Even his hair would end up covered in the stuff, and his white hair would turn dark and cling to his skull. Afterwards, he’d only wipe down his hands, so as to not have to smudge the knives as he attempted to clean them. The rest he’d leave on, at least for a while. 

Roman had asked him once, to lick the blood off his hands instead. It had been an impulse, and his heart fucking burst when Victor had done it immediately, eyes hazy as they fixed on his. Roman had been tempted to pull the fingers out of his mouth himself, fill them with something else but… the mess.

He’d make him change, of course. Before he even let him into the car, let alone near him. Victor knew. He knew what Roman wanted, almost before he did. But he’d always wait to be told, and Roman loved to do it, loved him for it, in his way. Anything he wanted (a whim, a job, an order), he could just turn to his side and find him there, always close, always focused on him, and always ready. More than once, Roman’s heart would start beating faster simply by being reminded how, no matter what it was he wanted, Victor Zsasz would do it, and do it for him only. 

Victor was almost done with the knives, so Roman sat up from the chest freezer he’d been lounging on. The vibrations from it, mild as they were, had put in a fair effort into relaxing his tense back, and the metal box was cool and clean, perfect for a Gotham summer and for staying away from the bodies Victor had left strewn out the room. As he moved, Zsasz stilled, only his head turning his way. Looking almost entirely away from him, Roman stretched, luxuriously, exaggeratedly, just far enough that shirt lifted up enough to show a strip of never-broken skin, a hip… 

Zsasz stared. Slowly, he licked his lips. His hands started moving again, now toying with the knife he held, running his thumb over the blade, up and down, lightly enough that it wouldn’t cut. Then again, there was always a chance.

A moment passed. Two. 

Roman Sionis’ heart raced under his velvet suit, but his voice was calm, cheerful even, when he spoke.

“So, have you chosen a place yet or what?”

He didn’t have to look to know that Victor had shifted back to his motionless staring.

“Boss?”

When Zsasz spoke to anyone else, it was with a hint of humor, of boastfulness. He spoke with the confidence of someone who had a history of backing up his threats, especially the ones he didn’t have to say. When he spoke to Roman Sionis, however… 

Roman took a moment before answering, enjoying the way the voice had sounded before he wrote over it. Even in that one word, it was pleading. Shameless. Utterly, and truly devoted. Just as it always was when Victor Zsasz spoke to him. Just as it fucking should be. 

Using his arms to turn himself, he swung his legs off to the side so he could sit facing Victor. 

“Your scar thing.” He flipped a hand in the air, like it was something casual, unimportant, barely even worth talking about. Of course, Victor didn’t even fucking blink. Sionis frowned at him.

“You do have a place picked out, don’t you?”

If only he could keep the face Victor had made then, if he could pull the skin off his muscles, off his skull, and preserve it, if it would keep it’s shape and let him see that expression every day, over and over again, he knew he would. But instead he just breathed, trying to still his heart, to do his best to make the moment last. Roman was rarely one for stillness, but for moments like these, it was lucky that Victor moved so slowly. Other than when Roman called, of course. No, Roman decided, not luck. It was fucking fate.

He held his breath, savoring the moment until he couldn’t wait anymore. Even for him, Roman fucking Sionis, being looked at like that for too long… He jumped off the freezer, and strode to him, careful to avoid the blood and the bodies. Victor knew better than to move, just stared at him with that face until they were less than a few feet apart. 

“Show me.”

Zsasz was breathing with his mouth open. Generally, Roman would have found that disgusting, but the quick, loud fucking breaths… Fuck. He moved the hand that still held the knife, stopping only when he heard Roman.

“Wait.”

Silently, Victor Zsasz stared at him. He closed his mouth, swallowed twice in quick succession. Roman took the knife from him (it was clean enough, at least if he kept the gloves on) and smiled. 

“I'll guess.”

“Yeah, okay boss,” answered Zsasz, a dopey fucking smile draped over his face.

Roman leaned forward, shifting his weight back to his heels as he looked over Zsasz. In an almost comical impression of a detective, he raised a hand to his chin, one finger crooked over his lips, and tilted his head side to side to get a good look at Victor from several angles. Zsasz stayed still, with the exception of moving his hands behind his back. Sionis didn't have to look behind him to know that he was holding one hand in the other, tightly enough that the bones were grinding together, an indulgence that Roman almost always let him have. 

Roman's eyes narrowed as he focused. He pointed the knife at Victor, wrist facing up, and reached out until the tip of the blade was a hairsbreadth from his cheek. 

“Your face.”

Zsasz shook his head. A twinge of annoyance went through Roman. He didn’t like being wrong, especially in games he picked himself. He took it out on Victor by moving away, and and twisting his mouth in disdain as he spoke.

“Good. I told you already, no more of those fucking face scars. Can’t have you looking like a fucking creep in the club. You'd scare away even more all my fucking customers.”

He looked back at Victor, and his annoyance calmed when he saw how he was being looked at. Disappointment, maybe even hurt would have been good, delicious even, but the pure fucking love that stared back at him? The way Victor just took it, and looked at him like that the whole time? It was fucking intoxicating.

He nodded, contemplated for a minute. He angled the knife down and smiled. 

“There? Zsasz, you dirty fuck!”

Victor shook his head, eyes still on Sionis. He was starting to bob slightly, up and down, on his toes, and his breath was both fast and shallow. 

Roman looked at him. Focused. Considered. He smiled and turned the blade on its side, edge facing Zsasz. Smiling, he took one step closer, and slowly raised it to meet the skin right over Victor's bobbing Adam's apple. His smile widened when he noticed that Victor was holding his breath. Good. Sionis' hands were steady, but the blade was close enough that a single swallow would almost certainly draw blood. Victor didn’t move, didn't step back. For anyone else, to hold a knife to Zsasz was to sign your life away, and to promise what little time before it ended to pain. But for Roman, he was still. Both of them knew that Victor would never think of moving away from him.

Roman forced himself not to look up, to focus instead on the throat behind the knife, on the way Victor was clearly straining to stay still, on the way he, for once, didn't have to. He didn’t need to look up. He knew he'd chosen right. It wasn’t until he could hear the blood rushing in his ears that he realized he’d been holding his breath, and as he opened his lips to take a breath, he looked up.

Zsasz’s face was one of a man in the face of divinity.

“Roman, I-"

A trickle of blood fell onto Roman’s glove, but Roman was too busy stripping Victor to stop it.

Fuck it. Just this once, the mess wasn’t important enough to notice.

**Author's Note:**

> TLDR: Sionis is a narcissistic asshole, but, for some reason, Zsasz fucking loves him for it.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked it! I, like Sionis, have a validation deficiency. Also, I need the dopamine. rip


End file.
